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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26374594">Coffee Rings</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearjayycee/pseuds/dearjayycee'>dearjayycee</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>I'm i never gunna finish these (Works up for Adoption) [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops &amp; Cafés, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:47:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,314</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26374594</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearjayycee/pseuds/dearjayycee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Today your barista is:</p>
<p>1. Hella fucking gay.<br/>2. Desperately single.</p>
<p>For your drink today I recommend:</p>
<p>You give me your number.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>I'm i never gunna finish these (Works up for Adoption) [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1494713</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Coffee Rings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h2 class="title">
  <strong>This plot idea contains: Nothing, just really freaking gay.</strong>
</h2>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><div class="body-text">
  <p>
    <strong>Angst Level: 1/10</strong>
  </p>
  <p>
    <strong>Happy Ending</strong>
  </p>
  <p>
    <strong> <strong>Pairing(s): Dean/Castiel</strong> </strong>
  </p>
  <p>
    <strong>Please also note that this plot idea and the short written section were done when I was much younger and I am posting them exactly like I wrote them at the time. There will be spelling/grammar mistakes, rambling, and sections that might not convey the sensitive nature of this topic. I have grown a lot since I wrote this and know I am sorry if anything in them upsets you. </strong>
  </p>
  <p>
    <strong>PLOT:</strong>
  </p>
  <p>Based off of:</p>
  <p>
    <strong>  </strong>
  </p>
  <ul>
<li>The chapters from Castiel’s POV have different Coffee recipes. And Dean’s POV chapters have the instructions to drinks of the correct pouring instructions for different alcoholic drinks. </li>
<li>Dean works more than one job so that he can send Sam to College. </li>
<li>John Winchester has been dead for a few years, maybe drunk driving or something and Dean has been taking care of Sam Since. </li>
<li>Maybe Dean hid the fact that their father had died so that Sam wouldn’t be taken away from him. He dropped out of school so that he could get a job to support him and his brother.</li>
<li>They have been stuck in Texas since their father died since that was were they were living before his death. </li>
</ul>
  <p> </p>
</div><p>
  <strong>Written Story:</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Black Coffee:</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1 ½ cup of strongly brewed dark roast coffee</em>
</p>
<p>“Here’s my number.” Green eyes stared down at him, capturing his full attention, as he handed over a cup of black coffee.</p>
<p>The man currently standing in front of Castiel placed both the money to pay for his coffee and a small folded piece of paper into his palm, fingers lingering longer than appropriate. His head tilted in confusion, not understanding why the other had just said this.  </p>
<p>“The sign,” the tall handsome man said, as if hoping that would make more sense. It didn’t; it only served to confuse Castiel further. “Call me, the name’s Dean.” He strolled away, Castiel watching the leather clad man’s body all the way out the door, bell chiming behind him. For whatever reason, Castiel’s eyes refused to look away despite his feeling of guilt for looking.</p>
<p>There was no one else left in the shop, so he quickly moved around the counter so he could figure out what ‘Dean’ had meant. The only sign that he could think of was the one in the front entryway, and it read:</p>
<p>
  <em>Today your barista is:</em>
</p>
<ol>
<li><em>Hella fucking gay.</em></li>
<li><em>Desperately single.</em></li>
</ol>
<p>
  <em>For your drink today I recommend:</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>You give me your number.</em>
</p>
<p>Castiel was completely shocked by this but he immediately recognized the handwriting as well as the crudely drawn picture that accompanied it. Storming to the break room to find Balthazar was sitting with his feet rested on the table, looking totally innocent, pissed him off completley.  Just casually lounging around, no worry about anything other than his fun.</p>
<p>“I am not gay, Balthazar. Why do you insist on doing such things?” Cas’ hand was now rested on his hip while waiting for an answer. He found himself hoping for Balthazar to give him some half-assed excuse so that he could blow up in the other’s face to let off some steam.   </p>
<p>Balthazar’s smirk was sickening, stretching fully across his face. “Cassie baby, ease up. It wasn’t for you; it was for me. Not that I’m saying that you don’t need to get laid, because you do…big time. And I am guessing by your blush a hot piece of ass just gave you his number. So tell me about him,” he continued to smirk and pulled a hand under his chin, looking intrigued by his new conclusion.</p>
<p>“I am not gay.” Castiel’s voice came out as a growl, hating how easily the other man could control his emotions. Sure, he considered Balthazar a friend but more often than not he seemed like a manipulator.  </p>
<p>“You can say that to your god-fearing family but you can’t lie to me, Cassie.” He sang before he went back to reading whatever magazine had been forgotten in his lap when Cas burst in.</p>
<p>Castiel stomped back out of the break room to go wipe the board clean; hoping none of the earlier patrons had assumed the same.</p>
<p>[CHAPTER 2]</p>
<p>
  <em>Cappuccino:</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>1 shot espresso</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Free pour foamy milk to the brim of the cup</em>
</p>
<p>Castiel walked out of the bathroom, going back around the counter and tying his apron on, sliding his hands into the pockets to reach for his phone. This action was more of a force of habit then anything else, he flipped it around in his grasp. Suddenly it started vibrating, which surprised him. ‘Who could it be?’ Before he pulled it out he looked around the shop to make sure that he wouldn’t be bothering any of the costumers. They all seemed content with their brews so he unlocked the screen, expecting it to be one of his brothers asking for him to bring them something home.  That was a common occurrence since they were all far too lazy to make their own coffee even if they craved it. But it wasn’t who he had expected, the number was unknown to him, the message read, “Umm okay…so, what are you doing?”</p>
<p>Not knowing how this person had got his number he replied quickly with a “Sorry, I think you have the wrong number.” Placing his phone away, assuming that was the end of that, he went back to work serving the next college student in front of him. But Castiel’s phone went off again; he ignored it assuming he would also get a “Sorry” in reply.</p>
<p>The day continued, and he served the next wave of students before the sudden vibration of his phone surprised him so much that he knocked over a stack of cups. Castiel quickly apologized to the young lady who was waiting for a cappuccino. She didn’t even notice, being far too wrapped up in her phone to pay attention to Castiel’s mistake.</p>
<p>After finishing off her drink, he pulled out his phone and once again it was the same unknown number. This time the message read, “Haha you’re funny Cas, but seriously what are you up to?”</p>
<p>“Sorry my name is not Cas.” Castiel was beyond confused; he had already clearly stated that the person on the other end of the phone had had the wrong number, why was he persisting? Assuming it was a guy.</p>
<p>“Cas: a shortening of the name Castiel, a nickname. Are you mad at me or something?”</p>
<p>Castiel normally hated nicknames, but for some reason he didn’t mind ‘Cas’. Truly, anything other than Cassie would do just fine. But still, how had this person gotten his number?</p>
<p>“I’m not mad; I’m just slightly confused. Who are you and how did you get my number? Also, as for your earlier question: ‘What are you doing?’ I am at work currently.”  Castiel hated his inability to text like a normal person, he just could never bring himself to shorten words or use incorrect grammar.</p>
<p>He served another three people while waiting for a reply, smiling lightly at the patrons. Balthazar stepped out of the back room signaling he was finished with his break, now here to ease up the work load. His friend stood at the register next to him, being cheeky with the young man on the other side of the counter. Castiel frowned at his partner’s flamboyancy; Balthazar too easily flirted with everyone.</p>
<p>“Don’t you remember? You texted me, this is Dean from this morning. By the way you text oddly.”</p>
<p>Castiel let out a huff, he quickly looked in his outbox, scrolling down to the first message to the number. He was shocked to see such a message, but once again he knows immediately who was responsible to this. He turned his head to glare at Balthazar but found the man was far too close to him for comfort, currently grinning like a beast.</p>
<p>“Really, Balthazar? ‘Hey sexy, semicolon right parentheses. This is the cutie from the coffee shop, Castiel. Wanna bang?’ How many times do I have to change my phone password before you understand you are not allowed to use it? And how many times do I have to tell you I’m not gay before it sticks?” Castiel was so irritated he couldn’t even yell, his voice only coming out in harsh tones, not to mention the people sitting only feet away.</p>
<p>Balthazar just chuckled and went back to his post, ignoring the death glare Castiel was shooting his way.  He decided to clear up the miscommunication with Dean by sending the man a quick message. “I’m sorry we have had a misunderstanding; my insufferable coworker sent you that first text while I was in the bathroom. And the sign from earlier was also him. I’m sorry but I’m not gay. Also, I am sorry that my way of texting is ‘odd.’”</p>
<p>“Oh I see, you didn’t seem like the type to just ask to bang like that. And I meant odd in a good way. I like it. Can we at least be friends?”</p>
<p>Castiel didn’t respond right away, thinking over the other person’s request. He honestly didn’t have that many friends, at least not ones he talked to about non-class project related things. ‘It would be nice to have another friend.’</p>
<p>“I would like that.” He didn’t know why he said that. Castiel didn’t know this person; all he knew was that his name was Dean and that he liked men.</p>
<p>“I would too. I will text you later, you must be really busy with work. So bye.” Castiel wondered what exactly ‘later’ meant.</p>
<p>[CHAPTER 3]</p>
<p>
  <em>Café au Lait:</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>¾ cup whole steamed milk</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>¾ cup strongly brewed coffee or espresso</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Sprinkle unsweetened cacao powder over the top</em>
</p>
<p>“Hey Cas, what’s up?” Castiel ruffled his wet hair with a white towel, inhaling the smell of body wash that lingered on his skin. After a short pause, he pulled the towel across his skin and replied to Dean.</p>
<p>“I just got out of the shower. And what about you?”</p>
<p>Walking over to the dresser with the damp towel around his neck and phone in hand, Castiel pulled on a pair of fresh boxers, loving the feel of silk against skin. Once they were settled on his hips he let out a content sigh.</p>
<p>The device in his hand went off again, pausing with one foot in his pajama bottoms he opened the message. “Oh. Ummm I’m picking up my brother.”</p>
<p>“You have a brother? Is he your only sibling?” Normally he wouldn’t care to ask a stranger such things but since it was the current topic it seemed rude to ignore. Though, Castiel would admit he was slightly curious about his new ‘friends’ life…but only mildly so.</p>
<p>“Yeah, his name is Sammy. He goes to Rice. Ah, that reminds me are you a student?”</p>
<p>Now fully dressed, Castiel settled into his bed pulling his laptop into his lap before answering. “What’s his major? Yes, I am a student, are you?” He could imagine the man he met earlier today as an agriculture major, maybe a mechanic. Something that would allow him to get plenty of sun, he did have a lot of freckles after all.  Castiel blushed a little once he realized he had apparently stared harder than he realized. Sure, he had been slightly mesmerized by how the other man moved with such confidence but…who was he kidding? He could make no excuse for his prior action.  </p>
<p>Castiel scrabbled around to find the small remote that connected to his speakers. Once he’d found it he pressed the play button, the rich sound of a viola filling the room. ‘Tchaikovsky really was a master.’  Finally, opening up his essay so that he could try to get a bit of it finished.</p>
<p>“He’s a law student. And no I am not a student, but I am flattered that you think I am. What’s your major?” Castiel was shocked to find out that Dean wasn’t a student, and he was even more so because of the implied older age. The man he had meet this morning had looked so young, even though there had been an aged look in his eyes his face hadn’t show it at all. Cas really wanted to know the other’s age now.  </p>
<p>“Religion. I hope you don’t mind me asking but how old are you?” He was a little unsure about asking but he craved the answer. Castiel ran a hand down his face trying to get his mind to stop wanting insane things, trying to focus on anything other than his curiosities. But the feeling of excitement that came when his phone buzzed was too much to ignore.</p>
<p>“I’m only 27, what are you like 23? Are you a Christian?” Castiel was a little worried about answering the question of religion with all the stigmas that come with being a person of faith. If Dean had no faith, Castiel hoped he wouldn’t think of him as a person whose only goal is to push religion down other’s throats. There was a time where he might have. And Castiel used to say ‘I am a follower of our lord Jesus’ but after his first year of college his view on faith had changed as well as his view on other’s faith. He still had yet to tell his family of this revelation.</p>
<p>“No, I’m actually 25. My family are all devout Christians but I’m a Theist.” Well, he wasn’t sure if Gabriel was religious, actually he was pretty sure he wasn’t and he was pretty sure Lucifer wasn’t as well.  Neither seemed the type. Though Lucifer might only do it as a play on his name. Really, what had his parents been thinking.</p>
<p>Castiel suddenly realized this was the most he had ever texted anyone (at any one point in time). He wished the conversation wasn’t so stiff and informal, even if he didn’t know Dean it felt wrong. Well, not wrong, just not right. Looking down suddenly, Castiel realized he had yet to type more than two sentences in thirty minutes. ‘How did that happen?’ He continued to try and power through his essay, ignoring the buzzing of his phone in his lap. Having intended to focus solely on the computer in front of him, his eyes keep wandering back to his phone, begging him to read the text. Finally, Castiel gave in. “So, what do you want to talk about?”</p>
<p>He was slightly mad at himself for giving in for such a message, but more so with Dean for writing something so meaningless. Castiel closed his computer not being able to work any longer, ‘stop being so needlessly needy.’ He answered the text regardless.</p>
<p>“Whatever you would like to talk about.”</p>
<p>Castiel didn’t even know where he wanted to start. He just wanted to know the other man…anything would do, anything to ease the pull in his chest. He couldn’t even begin to explain the reason behind his want for this strange friendship. “What’s your favorite drink?”</p>
<p>“What’s with the twenty questions? My favorite kind of coffee is Café au lait.”</p>
<p>“I want to get to know you. Mine is strong black coffee after waking up with a hangover.” Castiel had forgotten to ask the question in return but leave it to Dean to do it for him.  But he wondered why Dean had been so completely honest with him. It wasn’t like he had to inform him about the alcohol to tell him his favorite drink, it seemed a bit odd…but at the same time it was rather sweet. ‘Sweet?’</p>
<p>“Black coffee is too harsh for my taste. Where do you work?”</p>
<p>“I have two jobs, one as a financial adviser and on weekends I work at a car garage. What’s your favorite color?”</p>
<p>‘Two jobs’, was all Castiel could think about. Dean was so young to have two extremely straining jobs, one physical and one mental. Castiel wanted to know why the man worked this hard, surely one job paid enough. His interest was piqued. ‘How could someone like Dean have such a ‘normal’ job? I would have never guessed he would be the type to have an office job which required him to wear a suit. How would Dean look in a suit?’ Castiel’s cheeks heated at the thought, he scolded himself for such an odd reaction.</p>
<p>“Green is my favorite color, and what is yours? Also what’s your last name, so I can add you as a contact.”</p>
<p>Castiel could remember the color of red hair blending into the green grass at their family home. His mother lying in the grass with him, holding his hand tightly, and the sound of his brothers playing in the background…it was his favorite memory. A sigh made its way passed his lips and he pulled a hand up to his eyes to try to rub away the scene.</p>
<p>“Winchester. Blue and black, but hey I will talk to you later I have chores to do. Goodnight Cas.”</p>
<p>“Goodnight, Dean.”  Castiel put his phone on his nightstand, thinking over all the things they had discussed. He considered the man he had just only met. Then he pulled his covers up over his cheeks. His face felt slightly warm, and Castiel thought about getting up and checking his temperature but he doubted he had a fever.</p>
<p>Just as his eyes started to close from the heaviness his cell started jumping on the wooden side table. He reached over trying to figure out what Dean wanted. “And Cas, just so you know. I know you’re not gay but if you are ever curious…consider me.” This stupid blush just wouldn’t leave him alone. Placing the phone back on his table he tried to go to sleep but now the thought was stuck in his mind.</p>
<p>‘If I was ever curious would I consider Dean? He seemed like a nice enough guy.’ Castiel knew he wasn’t straight but he didn’t think he was gay either. Honestly, he had never met anyone who he could be with, physically or mentally. Even though Castiel saw the beauty in others, he had never felt a pull to another human being. Because of this he would always deny being gay; he wasn’t, but he wouldn’t say he was straight either. Castiel simply allowed people to come to their own conclusion, though most of them were wrong. He closed his eyes, hoping for sleep but green eyes haunted his sweet dreams for the rest of the night. Always silently smiling at him.</p>
<p>[CHAPTER 4]</p>
<p>
  <em>Guinness:</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Pour the draft from a tap (never use canned). Using a dry, clean 20oz tulip pint glass pour at a 45-degree angle. Make sure the tap faucet never touches the glass. Fill the glass ¾ of the way and let the beer settle for a minute or so. Then fill it the rest of the way; the head should look like a dome above the rim. You have now poured the perfect pint.</em>
</p>
<p>“Sam, get up. Breakfast is ready.” Dean walked over to the window pulling back the curtain to let in the early morning light. Sam groaned from under the mess of blankets on his bed, throwing an arm over his squinting eyes. “Be down in five minutes or else you don’t get pancakes.”</p>
<p>His brother perked up, body shooting up from the mountain of covers. “Pancakes?” Dean loved that wide-eyed look Sam got whenever real food was offered to him this early. It wasn’t often Dean found the time to make a hot breakfast. Normally a piece of toast and a bowl of cereal was all they had to eat ‘til lunch.</p>
<p>Dean turned to leave, smirking slightly at the childishness of the reaction. “Yeah, blueberry.” Dean smiled softly then, chuckling at the sound of feet heavily hitting the wooden floor. Closing the door on the way out to give the other some privacy, Dean moved into the kitchenette. The whole apartment smelled of delicious pancakes, he placed the stack he had already made at the seat Sam was currently sitting down in, then going back to cooking his own stack. Sam hummed in the background with every bite. Dean had learned at an early age how to make pleasing food since Sammy had been a ‘little bitch’ and complained after weeks of living off of ramen and cereal.</p>
<p>“How’s school Sammy?” Sam was always so busy with school-work, he was really worried about his brother at times. Dean wanted to make sure he didn’t push himself too hard. Dean’s only job in life at this point was to make sure Sam stayed healthy and happy, everything else took the back seat.</p>
<p>“Umf good,” He mumbled out, food blocking proper pronunciation.</p>
<p>“Don’t talk with food in your mouth.” Dean scolded while shaking a spatula at the other.  </p>
<p>A loud gulp came from the breakfast bar behind him before Sam replied. “Sorry, it’s been really good. Anything new with you?” They would always ask the same thing every morning even though nothing usually changed.</p>
<p>Dean placed his last pancake on the stack before moving to stand across from his brother, biting his lip softly. He wondered momentarily if he should tell Sam about Cas, not that there was much to tell. Deciding that he should since he tried not to keeping anything from his little brother. Dean had always tried to tell Sam everything, no matter how little the detail. Though there were some things that he kept secret such as the true nature of their father’s drinking problem when they had been younger.</p>
<p>“I met this guy,” Dean stated as he took a bite, not looking into his brother’s eyes, slightly afraid of what the other might think. Sam’s opinion of him meant everything to Dean.</p>
<p>Sam looked up from his empty plate after running a finger through the leftover maple syrup on the dish. “Okay?”</p>
<p>There was no judgment in Sammy’s voice so Dean continued on, hoping the younger Winchester would accept his new choice of partner. Dean knew there were times when Sam was extremely disappointed with his choice of sexual partner. But since they had never really talked about Dean’s partners he hoped his brother would understand this was a little different than just his normal hookups. At first, that might have been all he had wanted but the more he talked to Cas the more he wanted to know. And rule one of casual hookups is to not get attached. The only reason he was telling Sam about this in the first place was that he wouldn’t mind getting attached. “Well, I um, he’s really handsome.”   </p>
<p>“And?” Dean watched as Sam’s eyebrow lifted in a nonchalant kind of way. Sam sighed; reading the weariness his brother was feeling to a tee. “Dean, I don’t care as long as you’re happy and not hurting yourself and others. Don’t you know that by now?”</p>
<p>The older Winchester scoffed and continued eating, finally saying, “Enough with the chick flick moment, I just wanted to let you know that he might be around. “</p>
<p>“So, what’s his name?” Sam asked with an audible smirk, Dean didn’t even bother looking to confirm his assumption.</p>
<p>“Castiel,” the name rolled right off the tip of his tongue. He wanted to moan it for the barista; Dean’s face turned a bright red. ‘Where the fuck did that come from?’ Sam chose to completely ignore the change in his brother’s demeanor.</p>
<p>“Cas sounds better. What’s he like?”</p>
<p>“It’s Castiel to you. He’s interesting…he’s a religion major and he works at ‘Permanent Addiction’ but honestly, I don’t know anything else about him.” Dean pulled out his phone, texting Cas a quick “Good morning” before going back to watching his brother.</p>
<p>“Are you texting him?”</p>
<p>Dean was just about to answer his brother when his phone went off and his attention was focused on the device in his hands. “Good morning, Dean, how are you?” The sound of Sam moving around into the kitchenette barely registered, he only realized his brother was still in the room when he took Dean’s empty plate and placed them both in the sink.</p>
<p>“Dean, dishes.”</p>
<p>“Hold up a second.” Dean moved to stand in front of the sink where Sam was silently waiting for him with dishtowel in hand. “I’m great, how did you sleep last night?” He set down the phone and then turned the hot water on full blast, rinsing the plate under the scalding water before scrubbing at it full force. Once he was pleased with the cleanliness of the dishware he passed the dripping plate over to Sam, where he then dried it off before placing it in the cupboard.</p>
<p>“So was that him?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Dean replied while he fumbled slightly with the slippery dish in his hands. He realized he had ignored his brother when he had first asked, he hadn’t meant to but he had been preoccupied with Cas.</p>
<p>“So, this is serious then?”</p>
<p>Handing over the last pan, then wiping his hands on a dishrag, not wanting to get his suit pants wet, Dean finally figured out his own answer. “I don’t know, he said he’s not gay.” As he rolled down his sleeves he let out a long sigh, thinking back to what Castiel had said. When Dean had first seen the sign in the coffee shop he had frowned at it, thinking the person who wrote it had been rather foolish. Since they lived in Texas being gay was a rather touchy subject. However, he was hit with the realization that the moment when he saw that sign was the moment he’d become interested in the barista inside, and so he couldn’t help but silently thank the idiot that scrawled that tasteless sign.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you want to adopt this story just leave me a comment.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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